Through The Fire
by gf7
Summary: Family argues. Sometimes this leads to dangerous and lethal situations.


Title: Through The Fire  
  
Author: Shawn Carter  
  
E-Mail: wolfpackproductions@comcast.net  
  
Website: Not yet up and running. Soon.  
  
Feedback: Please.  
  
Disclaimers: These characters are owned by DC, The WB and T/R.  
  
Notes: We're still here now aren't we. As with always, fanfiction.net has a really nasty habit of reducing periods from one to three so some sentences may look blocky.  
  
Summary: Helena and Barbara have a complex relationship. Sometimes mother/daughter. Sometimes teacher/student. Sometimes sister/sister. But they're both strong willed and this can lead to some very dangerous situations.  
  
Rating: PG-13. Language. Mild violence.  
  
Additional Notes: This takes place about six months after Devil's Eyes.  
  
Music: Lyrics are the Goo Goo Dolls "Bullet Proof". Title is something else.  
  
*****  
  
You're a bullet through my soul  
  
And I'll never let you know  
  
I won't let you fall until you let it go  
  
*****  
  
I'm cleaning up her blood again.  
  
Something tells me that if someone had told me eight years ago that I would end up being the caretaker to an impulsive, brash and thick-headed young hero, I would have laughed in their face.  
  
I was quite the impetuous one myself in my youth but I was never this bad.  
  
And good God, I never bled this much.  
  
Now don't get me wrong, I had my share of bumps and bruises and I had more than a few nasty gashes that looked like I'd been eviscerated with a butcher knife but I was never much of a bleeder.  
  
Not like Helena.  
  
I shake my head and lean across to look over the wall of the elevator. There are several bloody handprints near the door and across the back of it. There are also stains on the ground.  
  
Big wet red splotches shining brightly against the stainless steel floor.  
  
"Is she sleeping?" I ask behind me, knowing rather instinctively that my old friend Alfred Pennyworth is standing there. Old friend is putting it rather mildly but that is a whole other story. For another time.  
  
Alfred nods slowly. "Indeed. Rather fitfully at first but now quite still."  
  
"She's going to be pissed when she wakes up," I say with a smile.  
  
"You drugged her," Alfred says, a wry smile lifting his lips. I think he rather enjoys this strange play Helena and I have between us.  
  
I nod slowly. "I did. Her entire side is torn up. If I left it up to her, she'd already be out and about again."  
  
He chuckles. "I can clean this up," he tells me. He moves closer to me and crouches slightly to examine the stains.  
  
"I know," I say. I reach across him and take the wet rag from his hand. "It's my responsibility."  
  
He nods, seeming to understand. I rather imagine that he does. Even if I don't completely.  
  
I start to scrub at the blood and it comes off easily. It's fairly fresh. It's been less than an hour since she came stumbling in to the Clocktower.  
  
I close my eyes and try not to think about the rampant fear that had ripped through me when I'd seen her fall in front of me. She had looked up at me through bleary eyes and gasped out my name.  
  
It's not like that's the first time that's happened. It's far from likely that it will be the last.  
  
But I still nearly fall apart every single time.  
  
I should know better.  
  
You'd think by now that I would have learned how to tell a scare from a real crisis. I mean we've sure had our share of both.  
  
Blood tends to confuse things.  
  
You see by the time she had collapsed at my feet, she'd already dragged herself several miles. The wound had gone from oozing a steady stream of blood to gushing torrents because her very moments had torn the flesh.  
  
I'd known she'd been hurt but she'd insisted that it hadn't been much. A knife prick was all. She had sounded fine right after the goon had stabbed her and hell, I'd even believed for just a brief moment that she really was being honest.  
  
I should know better.  
  
If Helena Kyle got her skull caved in, she'd tell me it was just a little headache.  
  
And then she'd bleed all over the floor.  
  
I don't know if it's her stubbornness or if she really does initially believe that she's strong enough to weather any injury. Time and time again she's proven wrong and yet every single time she survives an injury and returns to the fight, she seems to grow more confident of her ability to survive any mess.  
  
That worries me.  
  
One of these days she's going to get in over her head. To a degree where even she can't fight her way through it.  
  
And I can't lose her.  
  
God I can't lose her.  
  
I scrub at the stains a little bit harder, my eyes narrowing. I'm sure if you looked at me you'd think I was near manic. Truth is, I just need the blood gone.  
  
Helena will be fine.  
  
She was stabbed in the side while out on patrol but the wound wasn't terribly severe. Worse than it would have been if she hadn't traveled nearly ten miles back to the Clocktower but even so, she'll be just fine. She's sleeping now, drugged with a horse tranquilizer. Oh you have no idea, trust me, anything less would be worthless.  
  
I know her well enough that she'll be ticked off at me come morning but that's not really my problem. It's not hard for me to justify drugging her.  
  
I'd do it again if it guaranteed that she'd be safe for the night.  
  
Tonight she is.  
  
I feel a hand slide over mine and I look up. "Alfred?" I say with confusion. I chide myself for forgetting that he was there. I guess I really had gotten lost in my own thoughts.  
  
Trust me when I say that's nothing new.  
  
"Allow me," he says, taking the rag from me. His eyes speak volumes. He's worried about me.  
  
I try to offer him a smile. We've been down this path before. He knows I get crazy when Helena gets hurt.  
  
"She'll be okay," he assures me. "You look exhausted."  
  
"Truer words," I mumble.  
  
I'm whooped. Alfred wins again.  
  
He nods slowly. "I'll be in shortly with a glass of wine to help you sleep," he tells me. In his voice I hear the clear order for me to get ready for bed. You know, he may have the title of butler but he really does make this place work. We'd all be helpless without him. And I'm not even talking about how he seems to instinctively know exactly what I need when I need it. And by that I don't just mean a nice glass of red wine to settle my over-frayed nerves.  
  
Sighing, I acquiesce and wheel myself towards my private quarters. I start to turn my chair towards Helena's room but his voice stops me. "She's sleeping," he says softly, his voice a gentle nudge instead of a harsh shove.  
  
"Alfred," I say, stopping. "Dinah.she's not in yet."  
  
"I know," he replies, his eyes flickering up to one of the clocks on the wall. She's almost three hours late.  
  
This is nothing new for me. I dealt with this all the time during Helena's final two years in high school. Her worst years. The ones when I was literally afraid at every moment that I was about to get a call telling me she'd hurt herself and she wasn't ever coming back. She was always lashing out, always looking for something to strike out against. Even if that meant herself. Even if it meant hurting herself.  
  
I guess I'm still wrestling with those fears even now.  
  
"I need to stay up. I don't want her to think."  
  
"I will wait up for her," he replied, her voice stern. There's no room for argument there. He's the boss in this conversation.  
  
I swallow hard not unlike a small child who had just realized that after all the screaming and ranting, they were in fact going to do exactly what mommy and daddy told them to do. And right the hell now.  
  
"Let her know I'll deal with it in the morning."  
  
He just gazes at me for a long moment and then he says, "Goodnight my dear."  
  
I sigh, finally relenting. Slowly I turn my chair and head towards my room, feeling his eyes on my back. I know he's watching me the entire way.  
  
It's going to be a long night.  
  
It always is when Helena's hurt.  
  
Even when I know she's fine.  
  
*****  
  
"It's so quiet," Dinah Redmond whispered.  
  
She stepped in to the Clocktower at just after three in the morning knowing full well that she should be thankful for the quiet. After all she was almost three hours past curfew.  
  
"Miss Dinah," a stern voice said from the doorway.  
  
"Caught," she mumbled. She looked up at the old butler and smiled brightly. "Hi, you're still up."  
  
"I am," he replied, his lip quirked.  
  
"I got held up," Dinah offered weakly.  
  
He chuckled.  
  
"Not buying?" she asked, slumping in to a nearby leather recliner. It was Helena's favorite chair. The one piece of furniture she'd fight for. The one she was always trying to think of a creative way of sneaking back to her apartment.  
  
He smiled, not unkindly. "You'd hardly be the first young lady to come through here with rather inventive reasons for missing curfew."  
  
"Helena beat me to it," Dinah said with a nod.  
  
"I imagine Miss Helena has used every single excuse you could possibly contemplate," Alfred replied. He moved towards her, his body language clearly steering her in the direction of her bedroom.  
  
"Don't imagine I could convince you to not tell Barbara I was late?"  
  
"She already knows. She just turned in about a half an hour ago," Alfred told her as he took her jacket from her.  
  
"She turned in before I got in?" Dinah asked, eyebrow quirking up. That wasn't at all like Barbara. She was kind of anal like that.  
  
"It's been rather chaotic around here tonight."  
  
"Is Helena okay?" Dinah asked, suddenly understanding. She'd only been around the two older women for little over a year but even she already realized the dynamics of how everything came together.  
  
The two women were each other's life-blood.  
  
She was actually rather envious of their bond. Which was not to say that she didn't admire the living hell out of it.  
  
It was a pretty cool thing. And a pretty frightening one as well.  
  
Eight years ago both of their lives had been shattered on the same night. Hell within the same hour. And over the wreckage of their previous lives, they had formed this unique thicker-than-blood bond that had helped both of them survive. It had allowed each of them the strength to push through and to persevere.  
  
The downside however was that it meant that the two of them were to no small degree dependent on each other which was both an incredibly romantic concept and a rabidly horrific one all at the same time.  
  
Hell, you'd think they were lovers with all that drama.  
  
But no. Both of them were intensely in love with others. Helena with Jesse Reese and Barbara with Dick Grayson. Though if you asked either of the women, they'd both downplay it.  
  
Which didn't mean that both Reese and Dick wouldn't have to come to accept the fact that they would always be second behind the bond between Helena and Barbara. So far Reese had done it without problem. He even seemed to admire Barbara. She hadn't seen enough of Dick to know his feelings.  
  
But it was a hell of a bond. The kind epic tales were written about.  
  
It was a confusing one too.  
  
Sometimes they seemed to Dinah like a mother and a daughter. When Barbara was scolding Helena for her lack of caution or her rampant vices, there was a tone in her voice that was authoritative and no nonsense. Even if Helena did pretend to blow it all off.  
  
Dinah had recently stood witness to a massive blowup between the two over Helena going out hunting while intoxicated. It had been one hell of a smack down and Barbara had been at the paddle. She hadn't been at all amused by Helena trying to joke it off and by the end, in one of the rare occasions, it had been the brunette who had been apologetic and duly chastised. Like a child responding to her parent. And desperately needing their approval.  
  
But there were other times when the two of them bantered like sisters. Older and younger. They'd needle each other and then laugh about it. They'd gossip like school-friends and then make jokes at the others expense.  
  
And some of the vices would become shared between the two. She'd come home from studying with Gaby one night to find the two of them knocking back shots of Jack. One after another until neither of them could stand. And all of started by a taunt about who could out-drink the other.  
  
And then there was the third relationship, teacher and student. Helena seemed to largely disregard this one but Barbara clearly didn't. It was the one that caused her the most pain. Dinah could only imagine what it was like for Barbara to send Helena out night in and night out, always wondering if her young protégé would come back alive.  
  
"She's sleeping," Alfred said as he took the shoes she offered him. He stacked them neatly in front of the door knowing full well that the care he was showing them would be disregarded in the morning when the young blonde forced them on her feet in her haste to get to school.  
  
"Was she hurt?"  
  
"I believe she suffered a battle wound," Alfred replied rather cryptically. "Knowing her she'll be just fine come morning."  
  
"Quips and all," Dinah muttered.  
  
"Indeed," Alfred said with a slight smile. "Sleep well Miss Dinah."  
  
And with that he took a step backwards and exited the room, leaving her in the silence of her bedroom.  
  
She laughed to herself. She knew full well that she was going to hear it from Barbara come morning. Curfew was one of those things Barbara tended to not be terribly lenient about.  
  
Probably years of frayed nerves thanks to Helena.  
  
"She gave Barbara gray hairs I bet," Dinah said out loud. It was amusing to think about the power struggles the two of them must have had during Helena's school years.  
  
Still, breaking curfew was fun.  
  
And hey, at least Helena would understand why she'd stayed out so late.  
  
Cute boy and all of that.  
  
And sometimes just for the hell of it.  
  
*****  
  
I won't tell her how much it hurts. How much it bloody fucking hurts.  
  
It'd kill her.  
  
I sit up gingerly in my bed, my side screaming in pain. I drop down my left hand and feel towards the wound. I snort in amusement as my fingers rub against the coarse medical tape.  
  
"Nice," I mutter. "Way to go Barbara."  
  
This is so like her. She always over-reacts whenever I get injured. And then she wraps me up like a damn mummy.  
  
I push myself out of bed, groaning as I do so. I bitch about her over- reacting but I have to be honest, I must have scared the living shit out of her last night.  
  
All I can remember is my relief when I finally made it in to the Clocktower. I think I pretty much lost all sense of self after that. I felt like I was practically floating. I think I can recall falling and then lying in her lap. Okay not exactly. I fell towards her and as graceful as could be, she dropped out of her chair and caught me before I hit the grand. Beyond that everything else is a wild crazy blur.  
  
Well except her telling me everything was going to be okay.  
  
I've heard her say that a hundred times before. Always when I'm hurt. She's always right.  
  
I count on that. If Barbara says it, it'll be true.  
  
God, how juvenile is that.  
  
I'm twenty-three. I'll be twenty-four in three days. I'm getting old. I think I'll keep that to myself lest I take a batarang to the head for pissing off Barbara. She's not overly fond of when I say I'm getting old. Kinda takes it personally.  
  
I laugh out loud. I love pissing her off.  
  
Nature of the relationship and all of that.  
  
What would I do without her?  
  
Well, I wouldn't be okay. That's for damn sure.  
  
I brush a hand by my forehead and my eyes catch on several small scratches on the face of my palm. I must have gotten the cuts when I was dragging myself in. I can vaguely recall using every wall that I could find in order to support myself.  
  
It was a crazy night.  
  
I'd already gotten into a few ugly scrapes by the time I got in to the one that got me hurt. Still, I was more than cleaning up.  
  
And then that little two-bit thug with the knife got me from behind. Never saw him which is not something I'm proud of. My reflexes are faster than that. Usually.  
  
But he had some friends and I guess I was preoccupied. I was wrestling with two of them and then bam, fire in my gut. I think I cried out. Didn't mean to do that either. I hate when the bad guys hear me weak. Just plain pisses me off to no end.  
  
I can still recall Barbara squawking in my ear. "Helena? Helena? Are you alright?"  
  
I had answered her rather gruffly. "Fine. Just fine. Hang out while I take out the trash."  
  
And good God did I ever.  
  
Especially the jerk with the knife. He won't be gutting anyone else anytime soon. Or doing anything else with those hands.  
  
Of course it was after the fight when I started to feel like my insides were sliding through my fingers. But I couldn't let Barbara know.  
  
You see, she'd specifically told me not to go out hunting on that side of town. Too much trouble, she'd said. Too many invariables. She wanted to know more first about. Know who was in control.  
  
I had laughed at her concern, told her she was being overbearing. Told she was looking for drama in all the wrong places. Told her I could handle it.  
  
Couldn't very well tell her that she'd been right after all of that.  
  
So I actually thought about going back to my apartment and trying to fix myself up. That didn't last long; I suck at first aide. I'd probably give myself a disease.  
  
So no way on that one.  
  
Then I thought about going to Reese. Our relationship has never been stronger. And it's not like he not used to seeing me a bit tore up. And I'm actually kind of getting used to allowing myself to let down around him. It's kind of nice.  
  
Then I remembered that he's out of town on official police business. Another plan down the proverbial tubes.  
  
Which left me with either the hospital or Barbara.  
  
I finally swallowed my pride down and just damn well went home. Of course by that time I was trailing blood as I walked. Or stumbled.  
  
But when I got there and I fell in to her arms, she promised me it'd be ok.  
  
And as always, she was right.  
  
God, I'm getting sappy.  
  
Blame it on the loss of blood.  
  
Which reminds me.  
  
I turn slightly to my side and feel the tube stuck in my arm. She's been pumping crap in to me all night. Probably drugs too. That's her new game. Dope me up and out when she thinks I'll refuse her medical advice.  
  
Frankly it's cheating.  
  
I'll beat her up later when we're working out.  
  
If I remember that is. Truth be told, I tend to have a short attention span.  
  
Not to mention the fact that Barbara can more than hold her own. After all, she's the one who taught me how to fight.  
  
"Morning Helena," I hear her say from the doorway. I look up at her, almost guilty. Like I've been caught or something.  
  
I smile.  
  
She snorts.  
  
So this is it then. This is when she wheels around me, never saying a word but her body language says everything. She was right and I was wrong.  
  
She knows I won't give her the satisfaction of saying it so she kind of takes it anyway. She's the only one I know who can actually get away with it.  
  
"So Dinah came in after curfew last night," Barbara says, looking straight at me. Her green eyes sparkle and I'm suddenly worried about where this is going. Not worried scared mind you but worried uh oh because believe you me, Barbara Gordon has quite the devious mind when she so chooses. And when she's pissed off, I end up getting the nasty end of the stick.  
  
"Ground her," I toss back at her, trying to be flip. I drop myself back on to the bed and cross my legs at the ankles. I'm doing my best to look nonchalant. Don't want her to see how much pain I'm in.  
  
"I was thinking you two could work out for a few hours today," she says, wheeling around to the nightstand. She picks up a magazine I had left there and begins to flip through it. She looks up at me with amusement in her eyes. Let's just say it's not Cosmo that I was reading.  
  
"Sure," I say nodding. I know full well that the kid would wipe the floor with me today but this is a game. She wants me to admit I'm hurt. It's a whole big stubborn thing.  
  
"Four or five hours," she says, still flipping through the magazine. She turns it sideways and then looks up at me with a curious glance. I try to hold my expression. I'm not giving in this easily.  
  
"Sure," I say.  
  
"You know, just so she realizes that staying out late and partying like her big sister can have some consequences," Barbara says, finally putting down the magazine.  
  
I'm impressed. That was a shot right across the bough.  
  
"No worries," I say but I can feel myself losing my composure. If she's trying to make me feel bad or irresponsible, she's failing. I'm finding this all too damn amusing.  
  
In spite of my pain.  
  
"Won't be a problem, right?" she asks, her eyes locked on me.  
  
I shake my head. "Nope."  
  
"Alright. Let's go," she says. "You can get a nice sweat going before breakfast."  
  
"Party," I reply, wondering who is gonna juke first.  
  
I follow her to the workout room where Dinah is already stretching. She looks up at me, exhaustion written on her face. Barbara had only let her sleep for about five hours and from the look on Dinah's face, well, my guess is that she really had taken a page from my book.  
  
I'll have to talk to her about that later. Me being out of control and reckless is one thing but it's certainly not something I'd recommend to anyone else. Especially Dinah.  
  
And if I have anything to say about it, it won't be a path that Dinah will be allowed to traverse down. I can handle myself. Dinah's just a kid.  
  
"Alright you two, enough wasting time," Barbara says.  
  
I'm suddenly not sure of whom she is playing chicken with. Me or Dinah. What I do understand is that she's ticked at both of us. Me especially but Dinah is certainly not being spared her wrath.  
  
This should be interesting. It occurs to me that Barbara is a lot angrier than I had first realized.  
  
Looks like lesson time.  
  
You'd think by now that she would have realized that I'm a terrible student.  
  
*****  
  
She wheeled herself around so that she was facing the two girls. They were both dressed in loose clothes but neither looked to be even vaguely in fighting shape. Helena was ashen and her stance was askew. She was clearly favoring her side. Dinah just looked hung-over and exhaustion was written in broad strokes all over her face.  
  
"Let's start with some hand to hand," Barbara said with a wry smile. She tossed a towel over her shoulder. "Go until you hear the whistle or until one of you scores three points or one of you begs out."  
  
Helena snorted. "As if." Her eyes were flashing mischievously, like she was in the middle of a game that fascinated her.  
  
The two girls began to circle each other, each looking for an opening. Their movements were slow and overly deliberate and it was obvious that neither was too terribly excited about the workout. It appeared that they were humoring their mentor just for the hell of it.  
  
Dinah was the first to lash out. She struck with her left hand but was too slow and Helena had plenty of time to dodge. Even that was off-balance causing the creases on Barbara's forehead to deepen. She knew right then and there that one hit to Helena would knock her on her ass.  
  
The young heroes continued their dance for several more moments before Dinah finally got bold again and tried to throw a punch. Helena jerked to the side to avoid it and almost immediately grunted in pain. She hit the mat with a loud thud.  
  
"Helena!" Dinah called out, alarm in her voice.  
  
"Fine, fine," she gritted as she pushed herself to her elbows. She glared up at Barbara. "Satisfied, Oracle?"  
  
Barbara held up her hands in protest. "Don't go getting an attitude with me. You're the one who doesn't know her own limits."  
  
"Oh fuck this," Helena hissed, her eyes darkening. The playful dance of just moments before was gone and she just looked plain pissed.  
  
Well good then, Barbara thought. Not that the lesson would last or anything. Very few of them ever did with Helena Kyle. She had all of the memory retention of a three year on sugar pills.  
  
The brunette fighter stood up, hand on her side. Barbara could plainly see blood on the white bandages. "This game is over," she hissed.  
  
"It's not a game, Helena," Barbara snapped, suddenly no longer even vaguely amused.  
  
"Should I leave?" Dinah asked, her voice very small and uneasy. She hated seeing the two of them fight.  
  
Barbara turned, "No, you're far from out of the woods yourself."  
  
Dinah gulped. Okay this wasn't friend Barbara.this was definitely the mom version.  
  
"Oh leave her alone," Helena snapped. "Go on Dinah."  
  
Barbara spun her chair towards Dinah. "Stay." Then she looked hard back at Helena. "She's not going to be as irresponsible and foolishly self- destructive as you are."  
  
"Guys," Dinah said softly.  
  
"Well we can't all be like the great Barbara Gordon. Most of us aren't in to flogging ourselves for fun," Helena snapped back. Her posture was tense and on-guard. "Not to mention most of us have a rat's ass idea of what a good time means."  
  
"Guys please," Dinah said, her voice growing louder in its urgency.  
  
"You have too good of an idea of what it means," Barbara snorted out. "You know what; at least I don't take stupid chances and disregard all common sense. That is if you have any which I have no reason to suspect."  
  
"Oh let it go, Barbara. He snuck up on me. And I'm still here."  
  
Barbara stared back at her young charge with large incredulous eyes. "You're joking right?"  
  
"Nope," Helena said simply. "I'm still here."  
  
"But you almost weren't," Barbara insisted.  
  
"I was never in danger," Helena replied. A lie really but her eyes were doing a hell of a sell-job. She actually looked like she believed her words.  
  
"I guess we have differing definitions of danger," Barbara bit off.  
  
Dinah moved her body between the two women. Not that she expected violence but she hoped that maybe if she broke their line of sight, they'd lose the will to fight.  
  
Helena just stepped around her so she could resume the argument. "Being that I'm the one constantly in the line of danger night in and night out, I should guess so."  
  
"I'm aware. You let me know every single day how much you hate this fight."  
  
"It's your fight," Helena snapped back at her. She was pushing more urgently at her side now and her features were getting paler.  
  
"Really? Still?" Barbara asked, shaking her head. "I figured by now you'd come to accept your place in all of this. You are part of this. This is your fight, Helena."  
  
The brunette shook her head. "I fight because there's nothing better to do." Then she shrugged. "And because most nights it's a rush."  
  
"You can bullshit everyone else, Helena. Not me. I know better."  
  
Helena waved her off. She was too far gone in to this fight now to give ground. Even if she knew that she was arguing just for the sake of it. She was angry and she was in pain. Those were always a fairly lethal combination. Not to mention a rather irrational one. They made her act like an animal caught in a corner. It wasn't a pleasant sight.  
  
"One of these days, I'll finally find something normal," Helena said suddenly, almost quietly. "Something that means something. Something that's real."  
  
Barbara snapped back in her chair, the expression in her eyes wounded and hurt. She looked like she'd been slapped.  
  
The two women stared at each for a long moment and then Helena turned hard on her heel and fled the training room.  
  
"Barbara," Dinah started. She reached out to put a hand on the red-haired woman's shoulder but she quickly jerked away.  
  
"You should be studying," she whispered, his voice hoarse and heavy. Then she turned her chair towards Dinah. "In your room. You're grounded for the next two weeks."  
  
"But."  
  
"One more word and it's three," Barbara said coolly, green eyes hard and hurt.  
  
Dinah nodded slowly. This was a Helena and Barbara thing and right now neither was welcoming of any outside interference. Even from another member of the family. The best thing she could do for now was to remove herself from the path of their anger. For now anyways.  
  
She reached down and grabbed at her sweatshirt. Lowering her head she exited the training room.  
  
"A bit hard on her," Alfred said from behind Barbara.  
  
"She's not going to end up like Helena," Barbara replied sharply. Then she took a deep breath and reached out for her old friends' arm. "I'm sorry. I didn't.I'm sorry."  
  
He just smiled knowingly. "This is hardly the first time I've seen you and Miss Helena argue." He added softly, "Family argues. It's the nature of things."  
  
"She resents me," Barbara said, looking down at her hands. She was disgusted with herself for allowing herself to be drawn into the argument with Helena. They never went well. In fact more often than not they were just fitfully painful. Helena was the type of verbal fighter who actively searched for whatever it took to get someone off her back. No matter how cruel.  
  
Barbara knew better. She'd lost control. And she absolutely hated that.  
  
He shook his head. "I don't believe that and neither do you." He paused for effect. "You're just afraid she does."  
  
Barbara snorted. He lifted an eyebrow at the indelicate response. "The only thing I'm afraid of is what stupid mess she's going to get herself in to now. I can't always be there to clean up her messes."  
  
"Perhaps not," he said nodding. "But I imagine you will always try. Don't give up on her. She's brash and impulsive but she's been raised well."  
  
Barbara sighed dramatically and sagged in her chair. "Duly chastised. You happy?"  
  
"Not chastising, just reminding you. You've been an excellent mother to Miss Helena when it mattered. Perhaps now such a strong hand isn't necessary."  
  
"I'm not sure I understand. Helena doesn't always respond to anything besides a strong hand."  
  
He nodded his comprehension. "She doesn't need a parent right now. She needs a sister. She's frightened. If you approach her like you would a child, she'll recoil."  
  
Barbara shook her head. "Did you pick that up from watching her?"  
  
He chuckled. "From watching both of you."  
  
And with that he stepped back and exited the training room, leaving Barbara alone with her thoughts.  
  
*****  
  
I can feel both of their anger. And frustration.  
  
Which considering the fact that my head is pounding like a drum thanks to last night is no good. No good at all.  
  
I don't even need to touch either of them to do that. Both of them are fairly vibrating. Both of them wearing it all on their sleeves but desperately trying not to.  
  
And I'm caught right in the middle.  
  
Which isn't all that new. They don't mean for it to happen but somehow I keep getting drawn in to the middle of their arguments. Which isn't to say that they fight often. They bicker a lot but true throw-downs are rare. Thankfully so.  
  
Even so, when one does happen, they both tug on me like they have to control me. I don't want to equate it to a chess piece but what just happened is a perfect example.  
  
Helena's been kind of on my back whenever I do anything that might resemble anything she'd previously done. When I go to the bar, I get to drink coke. I get the nastiest look whenever I ask for anything harder. She really does take the big sister role to heart. All that gets thrown out when she argues with Barbara. Then she becomes almost like my pusher. If it'd piss Barbara off, she'd get me drunk in front of her.  
  
Which is not to say that I wouldn't love to party with Helena but it's kinda strange being dragged in the middle of them. Barbara isn't any better.  
  
She becomes the uber-mom. Heavy hand and all.  
  
Which is totally not her style.  
  
I look towards the room Helena stays in which she stays over at the Clocktower which is more frequent than you'd think. She's pulling on her shoes in such a rushed forced way that I can tell that she won't be coming down for awhile.  
  
This is especially the time when she can do the most damage.  
  
To both herself and others.  
  
"Helena," I say, rather hesitantly. As much as I'm used as a chess piece between her and Barbara, it always feels weird to try to get in the middle of their fights. Call me a wuss but I desperately don't want either of them to think I'm taking sides.  
  
She turns hard on me. Harder than she intended. Her hand flashes out to her side and she grunts indelicately. "What?" she says, her voice rough. She's trying to be this way. She's thrown up a wall twenty feet high and until she's done with her fit, she ain't coming down.  
  
"You probably shouldn't."  
  
Shouldn't what?  
  
Go out? Leave the Clocktower? Get drunk? Get laid? Get killed?  
  
"Thanks kid," she mutters stepping around me. She grabs for her leather trench and I see her flinch. I can see blood staining through her shirt.  
  
"Wait," I say. "Let Alfred at least clean that up."  
  
She shakes her head. "I'll do it back at my place."  
  
"Helena," I say, my voice practically begging. I don't like where this is going and I have the worst feeling about how this is going to turn out if she doesn't slow down and think.  
  
She doesn't even turn to regard me. Instead she ducks her head and sweeps out towards the elevator. She's putting off this vibe that seems to be screaming out "stay the fuck away from me or you will lose a limb".  
  
I back off.  
  
My powers have grown by leaps and bounds and I have no doubts that I could take her right now. She's weak and shaky but I don't want to hurt her and I think I would.  
  
And then she'd really flip out.  
  
Barbara's a control freak.  
  
So is Helena. Just in a different way.  
  
I hear the elevator whirl and she's gone. I try to force my concern down. Helena's not always the most clear thinker in the world but I don't think she's a huge fan of pain either. She'll take care of herself. Or at least try. I have to believe that.  
  
I shake my head. I hate when the air feels like this. It's so wrong.  
  
Bad juju and all of that.  
  
I look back towards the training room. I can see Barbara still sitting there. She's hunched over. I can't tell if she's crying. I don't think she is but her head is in her hands. She's angry, frustrated and probably a thousand other things.  
  
She knows same as we all do that she lost control of that fight. She's ripping herself for letting herself be drawn in to the trap of arguing with Helena. She went insult for insult until it exploded. She's coping to her responsibility. And probably most of Helena's too.  
  
Which is not to say that Helena was completely wrong either. I see both of their points. I get where they're both coming from. I hate this. I hate feeling pulled.  
  
I adore them both so much. I need them both so much.  
  
I see Barbara lift her head. She takes a deep breath and I see calm come over her. It's remarkable how quick of a transformation it is. One moment she's wracked and the next she's totally back in control.  
  
She'll make it right, I think. It'll be okay now.  
  
I'm being so damn young and juvenile. I know.  
  
But if you were me and they were all you had, you'd need to believe as well.  
  
So I do.  
  
*****  
  
She spun her chair around and glanced up at the clock and frowned. It was almost ten at night. It had been over twelve hours since Helena had stormed out of the Clocktower. Usually by now she was have tested the waters with a grudging, "So do you need me to do a sweep?"  
  
Not so far.  
  
Which meant that she was really ticked off.  
  
Or doing something stupid and self-destructive.  
  
"Hi," Dinah said hesitantly as she stepped in to the main control center. She looked more awake now. Water dripped down her shoulders and her blonde hair was back in a wet ponytail. She looked like she had just come from the shower.  
  
Barbara turned towards her. "Dinah," she said with a half smile. "I owe you a..."  
  
"No you don't," Dinah replied, waving her off. "I know better. It was just fun."  
  
"You're young. I know the feeling. Trust me.I was there too."  
  
"It's so strange thinking of you like that," Dinah said wrinkling her nose.  
  
"I'm not that old," Barbara protested with a laugh. Then she sombered up, "I just don't want."  
  
"I know," Dinah cut in. She didn't really want to hear the end of that statement. It just sounded like it would hurt. Instead she rather perkily said, "So does this mean I'm no longer grounded."  
  
"You wish," Barbara snorted. "But it might not be as constrictive as I had originally planned. We might be able to negotiate the terms."  
  
"That's something," Dinah said with a smile. She looked around at the monitors. "So, nothing?"  
  
Barbara shook her head. "Reese called in about fifteen minutes ago. He got back in to town a few days early. Hasn't heard from her."  
  
"Did he go by her apartment?" Dinah said, a bit too much youth and gossip in her tone. She was fascinated by the idea of Reese knowing where Helena lived. And a little scandalized which was just plain fun.  
  
Barbara lifted an eyebrow, a wry smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Yes. And she's not there."  
  
"She's probably wandering," Dinah put in. She crossed over to one of the desks and began to root through one of the candy bowls.  
  
"You really are picking up all of her bad habits aren't you?" Barbara said as she watched Dinah separate the chocolate candies by colors.  
  
"Uh uh," Dinah protested. "This is your bad habit."  
  
"Is not," Barbara said, feigning innocence.  
  
"She's not wrong," Alfred interjected.  
  
Barbara finally shrugged. It was true; her neurosis extended all the way out to M&Ms. "And you're right, she probably is wandering but she shouldn't be. Her side isn't serious but she could make it a lot worse than it is by aggravating it and not taking care of it."  
  
"So, you want me to go out looking for her?" Dinah asked.  
  
Barbara shook her head. "If Helena doesn't want to be found, she won't be. If she's sulking, she'll do it in a loud way. Which means some club or another. I don't want you there. Besides, Reese already went looking for her."  
  
"Did you tell him everything?"  
  
"Everything? No. Just that she's hurt."  
  
"She'll love that," Dinah said with a wicked grin.  
  
Barbara shook her head. "You've been watching way too many soap operas."  
  
"That's a Helena vice," Dinah said with a wide sunny smile. Barbara shook her head, amazed by how vibrant this girl was. She'd been through hell too but still she seemed almost radiant.  
  
"She'll show when she's ready," Barbara said softly. "She just needs time to cool off."  
  
"Of course," Dinah said nodding.  
  
She was about to turn to Alfred to ask him what was for dinner when the comm radio squawked to life.  
  
"Oracle, do you copy?" Helena asked, her voice low and throaty.  
  
Barbara swung back towards her computer bank and moved towards the microphone. "I copy, what's up Huntress?"  
  
Dinah lifted an eyebrow. Barbara had obviously realized quite quickly that this was a business call and she had slipped in to that mode accordingly.  
  
"I'm over in the Red Zone."  
  
"What the hell are you doing there?" Barbara protested with a loud sigh. "Wasn't last night."  
  
"Can it wait? Please?"  
  
Barbara narrowed her eyes, seeming to understand that this was important and the argument would have to hold for now. "Go ahead."  
  
"I heard some information on who's running the game out here. Who's in charge."  
  
"Where did you get the information from?"  
  
There was a long pause. "A bartender down at Tidal Wave," she said finally, reluctantly. Barbara let out a breath of air between her teeth in irritation.  
  
Dinah turned towards Alfred. "Tidal wave?"  
  
"It's a bar on the outskirts of the Red Zone. Especially known for it's.wild cliental."  
  
"Ah," Dinah said, understanding.  
  
"Go ahead," Barbara finally said between shakes of her head.  
  
"Stop shaking your head," Helena said lightly. "You knew I'd want to go dancing."  
  
Barbara chuckled and there was actual humor in her tone. "I knew," she admitted. "What did you hear?"  
  
"You remember the Animal Gang?"  
  
"Weren't they the group you went undercover with? The one that nearly killed Reese's partner?"  
  
"Yep, that'd be them. Their leader was Mick," Helena said sharply. "The little jackass who tazered me."  
  
"I recall. Are you saying that they're running the Red Zone? I thought they worked for Harley?"  
  
"So did I. Apparently they've either gone out on their own or they've got a new boss. In any case, they've formed themselves a bit of a rep."  
  
"Helena," Barbara cautioned, sensing that her young charge felt like she was being challenged.  
  
Helena chucked. "Don't worry. I'm not engaging. Just wanna check it out. In and out. I promise."  
  
"How's your side?"  
  
"Fine."  
  
"Good."  
  
There was a long pause and then her voice came back across. "Oh this could be a problem."  
  
"Huntress? Helena? What's going on?"  
  
"I have incoming."  
  
Barbara sighed. "Of course you do. Can you fight them off?"  
  
There was another pause and then a much more hurried Helena replied with urgency, "Them? Sure. The five guys coming down the hall? No way."  
  
"You need backup?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
The answer was so brutally honest and simple.  
  
And terrifying.  
  
Barbara spun and pointed at Dinah. "Contact Reese. Tell him to meet us at the edge of the Red Zone in ten minutes."  
  
"Reese is back?" Helena shouted out between what sounded like cracks and pops. She was obviously in the middle of a fight.  
  
"Yes. He came back a few hours ago. He's been looking for you."  
  
"Aww. That's sweet."  
  
"Are you okay?" Barbara asked as she sped through the Weapons Locker, picking up anything she could throw.  
  
There was a long pause; almost a minute in length. Then finally the answer. "No, I'm bleeding everywhere."  
  
Barbara nodded slowly, analytically. Now wasn't the time for panic. "Just hang on. We're right behind you."  
  
"Ten-four, Oracle."  
  
And with that comm. link went dead.  
  
"Helena? Helena? Dammit!" She hit the table with her fist. "Dinah?"  
  
"He's on his way," Dinah said breathlessly as she left the back, jacket on and a batarang in her hand. She held up the car keys. "Let's go."  
  
Barbara spared a look back at Alfred. He smiled reassuringly at her. She nodded slowly.  
  
"I'll drive."  
  
-FIN 


End file.
